THE NIGHTINGALE;A VERSATIONAL POEM, WRITTEN IN APRIL, 1798.
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen Light, no obscure trembling hues.
e, we will rest on this old mossy Bridge!
You see the glimmer of the stream beh,
But hear no murmuring: it ?ows silently
Oer its soft bed of verdure. All is still,
A balmy night! and tho the stars be dim,
Yet let us think upon the vernal showers
That gladden the greeh, and we shall ?nd
A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
And hark! the Nightingale begins its song,
"Most musical, most melancholy"[1] Bird!
A melancholy Bird? O idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.
--But some night-wandering Man, whose heart iercd
With the remembrance of a grievous wrong,
Or slow distemper lected love,
(And so, poor Wretch! ?lld all things with himself
And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale
Of his own sorrows) he and such as he
First namd these notes a melancholy str……（内容加载失败！）
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